


Thunderstorm Run

by darling_pet



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Irresistible, Lab Sex, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, because this is what dreams are made of, for the whole thing, wet and shirtless H.R.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10843641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_pet/pseuds/darling_pet
Summary: Looking to get some productive work done, you, the Reader, start your day at S.T.A.R. Labs early to avoid the chaos that normally comes with Team Flash. What you didn't count on was H.R. coming in from a morning run in a torrential downpour, totally drenched, and had lost his shirt along the way, apparently... So much for productive!





	Thunderstorm Run

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Cav's Instagram caption on his photo that inspired this hell-bound story.  
> 

 

Let's be honest. You weren't much of a morning person. But today, you woke up bright and early in order to come into work to get a head start on your project before the rest of Team Flash showed up. One might say they could be a little distracting. Okay, _a lot_ distracting.

Caitlin always has her eye on you and pesters you for not wearing the proper safety equipment when working on your latest gadget. “I don't want you to come running to me for a patch up when it could've been easily prevented!”

Cisco likes to gab. You two share a workspace and tinker on projects together, and man could he talk your ear off. Especially about Star Wars. And while you were a fan of the franchise too, there was a time and a place for everything. Not all the time, and everywhere in the lab.

Then there's Barry. Always speeding in with his current Iris-related dilemma or unloading the world's problems on everyone, which he feels personally in charge of and lugs them on his shoulders. You love Team Flash, you really do, but after spending day in and day out with them on the shit that goes down in this city, it can really take a mental toll.

Hence the current early morning bliss of pure quiet.

Although, H.R. _does_ have a room somewhere here in S.T.A.R. Labs, but he never bothers you or plucks any of your nerves. Not even, close.

Maybe that was because you were harbouring the biggest, fattest, most hopeless crush on him. You weren't sure if he had reciprocating feelings for you. There were moments when you thought he might, but then again, that was probably a giant dose of wishful thinking.

Trying not to let your mind wander, you throw yourself back into your work. _Now, where's my screwdriver?_ It's not in the drawer you normally keep it in... You look everywhere around your desk area. Nowhere. Then your eyes narrow in on it across the room. On Cisco's desk.

 _Dammit, I told him to keep his paws off my stuff._ If Cisco were here, he would say something like, “You have better tools than me and I only needed it for a second.” Miffed, you get up and retrieve your precious tool. _He could have at least put it back where he found it._

You're still clearly feeling the morning grumps, so you turn your attention to the Jitters coffee purchased from earlier. _Ah yeah, that's the stuff-_

“AHHH!” you yell, whilst spilling your drink all over your nice shirt. What a goddamned day. And it's not even eight o'clock! Thank goodness for the seemingly endless supply of S.T.A.R. Labs merchandise stashed throughout this place. You pick out one of the warm and cozy navy sweatshirts bearing the lab's logo from the cabinet by the entryway. Unbuttoning your stained top, you shed it with a huff, and start shoving your arms through the sleeves. In that short span of a moment where your head is like a turtle's still in its dark shell, something tall and dripping wet collides into you. Uncoordinated hands grope at your body to keep you afoot. You feel as if you are pressed up against, oh God, are those dripping wet _abs_? You're still stuck in your sweater-turtle-shell and all you can hear is this other person's shouting. You slip on the wet floor and fall directly down on your ass with a thud.

“Oof!” You take your head out from inside the sweatshirt, but your hands still stay in the sleeves. You look up at the sight in front of you.

H.R. is completely drenched, dark hair raked back by rain water. Oh, and rocking no shirt whatsoever.

“APOLOGIES, (Y/N)!” he yells with his white earbuds still in. “I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE HERE!”

“H.R.” you manage while gesturing to your ears.

“Oh! Right, sorry.” He removes them and sets them (along with his phone) down on your desk before helping you back up to your feet. You realize your sweater is not actually _on your body_ _yet_ and quickly dive into it, finally popping your head through the top. _Ack! How embarrassing. Hopefully, he didn't see much._ You can feel your cheeks ablaze.

“How come you're here so early?” H.R. puts one hand on his hip and runs another through his sopping hair and ruffles it a bit.

“I- uh, I wanted some time to work on my project without being distracted for once, heheh.” You spot little water droplets trickle down from his shoulder, to his chest and further, _don't look there!_

So much for no distractions.

“Oh, well then, I won't keep you,” he says about to turn away and leave.

“No! I mean, no, it's fine,” you try to reel it back into nonchalant mode. “Do you always go for runs in the morning?”

“Yep, l do! Yunno, I feel bad for my ruggedly handsome Earth-2 doppelganger. He was always _confined_ to this place. If only he had my facial transmogrifier! And boy, did it ever start raining rabbits and gerbils out there! I don't ever suggest running in a thunderstorm. Very spooky. I was almost afraid that lightning would strike me! Could you imagine? What would _those_ odds be?”

You're finding it incredibly hard to concentrate. At first, you think looking H.R. in the eyes while he talked would distract you from his unfair abs, but really, that doesn't help either. It's like being out in the rain made them bluer than normal (how is that even possible?) and now not only are you lost in his eyes, but you've lost track of the conversation.

“So, um,” you point at his bare and defined torso. “Did you forget your shirt before you went running, or...?” H.R. looks down as if he forgot he was half naked in your presence.

“Oh! Haha, funny story. I was running down a trail in the park, beautiful scenery there, I mean _really_ _extraordinary_. Anyway, I got tangled up in some brush and it tore my shirt! Can you believe that?” _Actually, yes._ The strangest things happen to H.R. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened too. “I just thought, what's the point in wearing it if it's torn almost to shreds?” You laugh awkwardly at his explanation, your hand scratching the back of your neck (a tick you've subconsciously picked up from Barry).

“Uh, here,” you open the cabinet and hand him a fresh S.T.A.R. Labs T-shirt despite the little voice in your head telling you not to, for selfish visual reasons. Your hand touches his in the exchange.

 _Sparks_.

Your eyes meet his for a second and that's it. Before you can reign yourself in, you stand up on the balls of your feet and kiss H.R. hard, officially saying goodbye to any rational thought. His lips are still wet from the rain. H.R. seems to have dropped the shirt in the surprise because it's suddenly on the floor. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, and still remains mere inches from your mouth. You can feel his hot, heavy breathing.

“I-I didn't know you felt this way about me,” he says with some difficulty.

“I hid my feelings. For so long. I was worried you might not feel the same but seeing you come in like _that_? I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry if this was unwanted-”

“ _No._ No, very wanted in fact,” he stammers. “I didn't want to pursue _you_ because we work together and I thought you might think it unprofessional.”

“H.R. you would not believe all the unprofessional things I want to do to you right now.” His expression! He's far too cute. _How can someone be cute and smokin' hot at the same time?_ It's a mystery, alright.

H.R. puts his still damp hands on your waist and spins you, almost in a dance, with one smooth motion and starts guiding you backward until your back hits the wall. His eyes don't leave yours as if keeping alert for you to give any indication of wanting him to stop.

But you do not intend for this to stop.

You've waited way too long for this.

You kiss him hard. You kiss him to reassure him that, yes, this is what you want more than anything. One of your hands snakes around and clings to his shoulder while the other plays with the hair at the back of his head.

“H.R.... please." You are apparently reduced to begging at this point. Without paying much attention to it, you bite your bottom lip a bit.

H.R. slams his palm against the wall behind you and leans in closer. That's it. Now he's reached his breaking point, too. Your head rests against the wall behind you, looking up slightly at H.R., whose eyes are so lust-blown in return, it simultaneously relieves you and turns you on more. You can feel his heart pounding when you place your hands on his chest, and slowly slide them down, down, down. He takes two breaths, then goes in for a kiss. This time the feeling is harder, stronger, more meaning driving behind it. You relax your mouth, leaving an open invitation...

Except now he's got hold of your wrist and is pulling you towards one of the desks. He clears away everything on the desktop with a swift sweep of his arm. Papers go flying and instruments clatter on the floor.

“H.R., that's _Cisco's_ desk!” you gasp. H.R. looks you straight in the eye.

H.R. looks you straight in the eye and says, “I know.”

Ohoho, things keep getting even better. You hop up on the desk and pull H.R. in closer with your legs. _Take that Ramon! This is what happens when you take my stuff without asking!_

“Okay, just making sure you're aware,” you say as you dive in again to meet his gorgeous-feeling lips. H.R.'s fingers play with the hem of your sweatshirt, clearly wanting to remove it, but is being too respectful to progress without your say-so. _Bless this man, he's too good._ But you didn't want good right now.

You take his hands and help him lift your sweater up and over your head. It follows the lead of every other object around you and gets discarded to the ground. He takes you in. Is he holding his breath? H.R. pins you in between his arms, then without breaking the kiss, he slowly lowers you down until you're resting on your elbows.

“God, H.R., I need you bad.”

“I'd always imagined you saying those words. It in no way compares to the reality of hearing them.” He hurriedly fiddles with the drawstrings on his jogging shorts at the same time you rid yourself of your bottoms. H.R.'s calloused hands grip your hips. Your body aches for him.

When he finally enters you, a combination of reactions occur. As you gasp, your eyes widen at the shock of his largeness, then shut tight.

“Ahh, you feel... so _good_ ,” H.R. says with a pleasure-induced shudder. The vein in his neck begins to show as he thrusts into you. You keep your legs locked around his body, needing to have him as close as possible. Craving to feel him, every possible inch. You elicit a very loud moan, only barely aware of the thought that you're happy none of your other coworkers are here to hear these indecent noises.

But your noises propel H.R. into a frenzy, causing him to pump faster. Strands of his damp hair fall forward and in front of his beautiful face. He strikes a certain spot inside you several times which causes your back to arch and head to tilt. It's almost too much. You're about to reach your limit.

Through your series of pants, you manage to get this across by simply choking out an, “ _H.R._ ”

He must sense the meaning behind the way you utter his name and with the look you give him. H.R. expels a sharp breath as you clench your inner walls around him. And that's when you both tumble into an audible euphoria...

Next thing you know, you're raising up off your back and being pressed against his warm, hard chest. H.R. searches your face, and when he sees your lips curl into an elated smile, he returns one so brilliant, it rivals yours. Your head is resting on his shoulder when you hear something in the distance. You freeze.

“I think I hear someone,” you hiss. You chuck each other's clothes at one another and move as far away from Cisco's desk as possible. You're pretty sure H.R. throws on his T-shirt faster than anyone in the history of putting on a shirt.

“...She'll know what to do, I'm telling you,” Barry's voice nears closer. You try to act natural as Barry and Cisco round the corner. “(Y/N), Cisco and I want to know...” Barry's words trail off as he tries to read the room. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” you ask, playing cool.

“She doesn't look like anything,” H.R. jumps in, trying to help.

“Yeah, you look tired. And wet. (Y/N), did you go jogging with H.R. this morning?” _Oh, Barry,_ you think. _You're fantastic_ _at picking apart a crime scene_ _, but not_ _social_ _situations like this._

Cisco clears his throat. “I don't think we wanna know, Barry.”

“We just had a really great workout,” H.R. blurts out. You want to throw a palm to your face. Y _ou giant goof!_ _Ah, what the hell..._

“Totally. Workout. _Plenty_ of exercise,” you agree, shooting H.R. a knowing look and matching coy smile. Cisco puts up a ' _please stop_ ' hand.

“Ugh, gross. Did you have to 'exercise' in the room I work in? Wait, what's all my stuff doing on the floo- ew no no no no no!”

**Author's Note:**

> K BYE *hides face*


End file.
